


You'll Think Of Me

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, M/M, Points of View, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-01
Updated: 2004-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-27 13:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian reflects on Justin leaving him for Ethan.  Takes place the night of s2 finale.





	You'll Think Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

_I woke up early this morning around 4am_  
With the moon shining bright as headlights on the interstate  
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to catch some sleep  
But thoughts of us kept keeping me awake  
Ever since you found yourself in someone else's arms  
I've been tryin' my best to get along  
But that's OK  
There's nothing left to say, but 

For some reason I woke up at 4 in the morning. I shouldn't be up this goddamn early. What the hell woke me up? Sitting up I instinctively feel the now empty space next to me. What the hell? And then it all comes back to me. The party, Rage, Ethan, him walking away from me. I throw myself back down on the bed and pull the duvet over my head try to get some sleep, trying to block out mental images of him in _that Ians_ arms. __

Take your records, take your freedom Take your memories I don't need'em Take your space and take your reasons But you'll think of me And take your cat and leave my sweater 'Cause we have nothing left to weather In fact I'll feel a whole lot better But you'll think of me, you'll think of me 

I give up and kick the duvet back. Stumbling down the stairs I notice that all _his_ shit is everywhere. His cd's, his clothes, his school books, just all around him. Fine, well he can come get this fucking shit tomorrow. Take it as well as his freedom and reasons. I groan and walk back to my closet, it's fucking freezing in this damn loft. Pulling open the door I look for my black Armani sweater and then I remember I gave it to him. He has my fucking $200 sweater. That's fucking great. So I search and finally pull out a pair of sweat pants and a blue sweat shirt. 

_I went out driving trying to clear my head I tried to sweep out all the ruins that my emotions left I guess I'm feeling just a little tired of this And all the baggage that seems to still exist It seems the only blessing I have left to my name Is not knowing what we could have been What we should have been_

I head to the corvette, I really need to just drive around and clear my head. Why has that little twat suddenly taken over my thoughts? About halfway down Tremont I realize that I'm wearing his sweatshirt. It smells like him and I want to throw up. All these fucking emotions start to surface. I'm Brian Kinney for fuck sake, I'm not suppose to feel things. I'm suppose to have no regrets, no apologies. But here I am getting choked up over some 19 year old. What could we have been? Would we have stayed together? Maybe, I dunno, I just thought that it was always going to be him and I. I mean I fucking get use to having the little shit around. I finally don't mind him being there and he fucking does this? 

_Someday I'm gonna run across your mind Don't worry, I'll be fine I'm gonna be alright While you're sleeping with your pride Wishing I could hold you tight I'll be over you And on with my life_

I know I'm going to have to face him eventually. When he comes to get his shit, at the diner, on the fucking street. Eventually I'll see him and I'll be fine, or as fine as I can be. While he's fucking Ian, a part of me will miss him in my bed but as soon as I feel that it'll be gone and I'll be over him. 

_So take your records, take your freedom Take your memories I don't need'em Take your space and all your reasons But you'll think of me And take your cat and leave my sweater 'Cause we got nothing left to weather In fact I'll feel a whole lot better But you'll think of me, you'll think of me, yeah_

And you're gonna think of me Oh someday baby, someday 

* * *

Song: Keith Urban, "You'll Think of Me"


End file.
